


a (candy)heart's a heavy burden

by skioctober



Series: ode to self-indulgence [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Self-Insert, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, shit's getting spicy over here, slow burn is finally lit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skioctober/pseuds/skioctober
Summary: Maybe Alyssa had been right about him. She believes her sister had no ulterior motives this time – no plot devised by Alyssa could have been so effective – but Anna finds herself considering possibilities she's ignored for months.Maybe –“Take a picture, doll,” James mumbles, head lolling to the side so he can return her stare. “It'll last longer.”





	a (candy)heart's a heavy burden

**Author's Note:**

> Posting a day early, because my sister is visiting and tomorrow is her birthday so I may not be able to update then like normal. 
> 
> This is, to date, my favorite installment in this series. It just hits me so good every time I read it. 
> 
> Hopefully y'all enjoy it just as much. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on it!

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“Where exactly are y'all going again?” Anna asks, sprawled across her sister's bed.

Alyssa continues packing her floral suitcase with her usual lack of regard for organization. “I have no idea. He refuses to tell me.”

“He _is_ pretty sneaky. You'd never know it just looking at him.” Anna is helpfully sorting through a pile of underwear, looking for pieces that are appropriately sexy. “What about these blue ones?”

“I lost the bra that goes with them, so no. Any fancy underwear I bring has to match.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about you? Shouldn't you be getting ready?”

Anna hesitates, reluctant to admit that she has no real plans, but ultimately decides to bite the bullet. “I'm just going to order in and binge Netflix.”

“Seriously? What happened to Daniel from Accounting? You said he was dreamy and you were gonna ask him out for drinks.”

“Tara asked him first.” Anna shrugs. “Lavonne said she caught them pants down in Byron's old office, but it's Lavonne so I'm taking that with a grain of salt.”

“Don't try to distract me with the tea when I'm trying to scold you – but definitely follow up on that and get back to me.”

“I don't see why you're scolding me over a commercialized, corporatist sham of a holiday.”

“Shut the hell up,” Alyssa quips, pausing to tuck her toiletries into a zippered pocket. “You love Valentine's Day and always have. You're a romantic, sentimental piece of shit.”

“I know.” Anna sighs, worrying the end of her red braid distractedly. “I was going to try for a Galentine's thing, but Katie and David already made plans and Cat's working hella late tonight.”

“Oh, well I'm sorry.”

“It's fine, shit happens. My inner introvert is always happy to stay home and veg with the kitties.”

Alyssa flicks her a dry look. “That's what concerns me.”

“Eh, be concerned with your own self.” Anna rolls, heaving herself up and off the bed. “Anyway, it's going on five and you know Steve will be here at six-thirty on the dot to get you. He's never late.”

“Ugh, I know! I mean, I love that he never makes me wait, but I feel like I'm always rushing to be ready for him.”

“I'm sure. I'll go ahead and get out of your hair so you can finish getting ready. Let me know where y'all end up staying.”

“Okay. Hey!”

Anna jerks to a halt at the door. “Yeah?”

“Uh, you mind maybe hanging out with James sometime while we're gone?”

Anna eyes her suspiciously.

“It's not a set-up,” Alyssa adds. “I promise. You two don't normally meet up on your own and Steve's nervous about leaving James alone all weekend.”

“Y'all know he's a grown man, right?”

“I'm aware, but they've both been through a lot and they're rarely away from each other very long. I figured since y'all are getting along now you could hit him up and do something. It would give Steve peace of mind.”

“I suppose. Maybe we can catch a movie or something this weekend.”

“Okay, thanks. I love you.”

“Uh-huh, love you, too. I'm leaving to get pizza now. Have fun on your sex-cation!”

“Get outta here!”

Laughing, Anna lets the door close behind her and makes her way down to her car.

By the time she gets back across town to her apartment, feeds the cats, showers and changes into her lounge clothes, it's nearly a quarter to seven.

There's a Snapchat from Alyssa, a selfie with Steve in the car. She responds with a snap of Pickles, who is stretched comfortably across the keyboard of her laptop.

Remorseless, she picks him up and deposits him on her unmade bed. She ignores his fussing and opens up the website for Pizza Hut.

Steve, being from Brooklyn, loves to give her a hard time about her shitty taste in pizza joints, but Anna remains doggedly loyal in her patronage.

As she's browsing the five-dollar deal menu, her phone rings. She assumes it's Alyssa, calling to reveal their mystery destination, and so doesn't bother looking before swiping to answer the call.

“What's up, slut?”

A beat of silence. “Hi?”

“Oh, shit,” she says, startled, face flushing. “Sorry, I thought you were Alyssa.”

“I figured,” James says, dryly, and she can hear the amusement in his tone. “You got plans tonight? Thought maybe we could have a drink.”

Anna almost says yes.

It's tempting to go, because although she was disappointed that Tara had snagged Daniel first, having drinks with James would definitely be more fun.

But she genuinely has no desire to doll herself up to go back out and spend hours in a noisy, overcrowded bar, even with him.

“Well,” she begins, leaning back in her chair. “I don't have any real plans, but I honestly was just going to stay in. I'm already in my comfy clothes and I was about to order pizza.”

“Alright then.”

He sounds perfectly okay with this, not the least bit put out, but it doesn't stop Anna from feeling like a stick in the mud.

“Tell ya what though, Sergeant,” she says, an idea forming. “Why don't you pick up a case of beer and hang out here for a bit?”

“Might be amenable to that,” he replies, and Anna can imagine the sly grin creeping over his face.

“Do you hear that?” she asks, looking over at Pickles. “He says he _might_ be amenable to that.”

James laughs. “You always talk to your cats like that? Like they're little people?”

“More like little assholes, but yes. So, you coming or not? Tell me now before I order this pizza.”

“You ordering that Pizza Hut shit again?”

“I am, and don't think you get to take over trolling me for it just because Steve's gone for the weekend.”

“Alright, alright. You're buying, so I'll eat whatever shitty pizza you decide to get.”

“Smart man. In that case, I'll drink whatever shitty beer you decide to bring. As long as it's not an IPA.”

“Fuck no. Who actually drinks IPAs? Every one I've ever had has tasted like piss.”

Anna laughs, delighted. “Right? Shit's nasty. But literally anything else should be fine.”

“Alright. Be there in maybe half an hour or so.”

“Roger that.”

When they end the call, Anna puts in an order for two large pepperoni pizzas, figuring simple is the way to go. She splurges on the brownies, too, because it's Valentine's Day and chocolate is mandatory.

Then she sits in her chair, staring, suddenly aware that she has invited a single, extremely attractive man to her apartment. Just the two of them. On Valentine's Day.

And she's in her pajamas.

“Fuck.”

She leaps up, making sure to open the front door for the delivery person and then scours the living room for any hint of a mess.

She'd loaded the dishwasher that morning, thankfully, so she quickly wipes down the counters and flips on her plug-in air freshener.

Flying back into her bedroom, she finds that Pickles has reclaimed his spot on her keyboard and Frankie is curled up in the still-warm seat of the computer chair.

Shaking her head at them, Anna tugs the comforter on her bed back into place and fluffs the pillows.

Her bedroom can afford to be a little messy, as she has no intention of bringing James into it, but she's nervous and can feel herself spiraling into anxiety-induced cleaning.

She catches sight of herself in the floor mirror and her anxiety leaps from tidying the apartment to nitpicking her appearance.

Her red hair, color vivid even after a month, hangs damp and tangled over her shoulders and looks intolerably sloppy.

The clothes she'd picked for comfort – cotton shorts and an oversized Sailor Moon tee – now seem silly and juvenile. But what can she do?

Change clothes?

Into what, something short and slinky? Absolutely not, she's not trying to slut herself around. But she has other things are more modest, and still nice...

“Ugh, guys what do I do?” she cries, turning imploringly to her cats.

Frankie is fast asleep, a ball of sleek black nearly indistinguishable from the chair. Pickles's only response is a slow, disinterested blink.

“Y'all are useless, you know that?”

“ _Mrow._ ”

“The nerve. What do I pay you for?”

A loud knock on the screen door echoes from the front of the apartment and her nerves skyrocket.

“Oh, God.”

Out of time, Anna resigns herself to looking like a hot mess and goes to answer the door.

It's James, and a glance at her phone shows he's five minutes early. He's standing on her stoop, grinning and holding up a case of Budlight.

He's also wearing an excellent pair of jeans that serve to both entice and vex her. The man is too damn pretty.

“Right on time,” she greets, stepping back to let him in. “Pizza should be here in a minute or two. You can put those in the fridge.”

“Sure.” He puts the beer away and returns, only to walk right past her and back out the door. “I'll be right back.”

“Okay?” Perplexed, Anna starts to peer out the door, but he's already trotting back up.

He steps back inside, looking exceedingly and endearingly nervous. In his hand is a small posy of carnations in soft, baby pink.

“Um, I saw these on my way up to the checkout. Corner store had a barrel full of them.”

He holds them out to her, and her heart skips once, twice, before sliding right out of her chest to fall at his feet.

She takes them, beaming up at him.

“Thank you,” she says, tracing a fingertip over the bunched petals. “These are lovely. No one's ever given me flowers before.”

“Really?” James looks surprised. “If I'd known that I woulda gotten you something nicer.”

“No, no, I love these.” She goes into the kitchen, hunting for something to put them in. “I like simple things.”

And she does.

It's a running joke in their family that she inherited her father's expensive taste, but Anna truly is a less-is-more kind of woman. And James's flowers look so sweet on her window sill.

“I really love them, James, thank you.”

“'S no big deal,” he mutters, embarrassed. He can't quite hide his small, pleased smile, though. “Ladies oughta have flowers for Valentine's Day.”

Anna chuckles. “You're sweet. Come on, I hear the pizza knocking.”

They're soon settled in on the couch, pizzas open and beers in hand, flipping through Netflix and debating what to watch.

“No romance,” Anna declares, shoving Frankie out of a pizza box. “Pizza's not for kitties. Maybe action or comedy? Or both?”

“You know, I kinda wanna watch a cartoon...” James trails off, tentative.

Anna lights up. “Really? Like a Disney movie?”

“Maybe? Or what're those ones you and Alyssa are always watchin'?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, there's one with a dragon, and then a a goldfish that turns into a girl, I think?”

“You mean Ghibli?” Anna beams. “You want to watch a Ghibli movie?”

“Sure.” James smirks, amused by her enthusiasm.

“Okay, well, we'll use my DVD player then, I have several of their movies. Guard the pizza.”

She scrambles over to her movie case and then returns with a handful of options. “I love all of these so I'll let you pick. I have _Ponyo, Howl's Moving Castle, My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki's Delivery Service, Spirited Away,_ and _Princess Mononoke._ ”

James looks over all the movies, considering. “Which one's your favorite?”

“ _Howl's Moving Castle_ ,” she says, without hesitation.

“Let's start with that one, then.”

“Excellent choice.” She pops it into the player and settles back on the couch, snagging another slice of pizza. “I did say no romance, but we'll make an exception this time.”

They get caught up in the movie almost immediately, but Anna spends most of her time watching James for his reactions.

He gets a kick out of Old Sophie and enjoys the pretty scenery of the backgrounds. Anna worries briefly about the war element, particularly when they start bombing the village, because she hadn't considered that when she put the movie in.

But James seems to handle the violence well. There's no sign of the distress he'd shown on Halloween when the noise of the party had overstimulated him, so Anna relaxes and enjoys the movie.

They work their way through _Ponyo, Spirited Away,_ and _Kiki's Delivery Service_ over the the course of the night. Sometime during _My Neighbor Totoro_ , Anna blinks as if coming out of a fog.

The pizza boxes are closed and stacked on one side of the coffee table and their empty beer bottles appear to have been thrown away.

The clock on her DVD player reads 4:48 AM.

Frankie and Pickles, who were glued to her side last time she checked, are now cuddled up to James. Pickles is balled up in his lap and Frankie is draped over his legs, which are stretched out on the table.

The little traitors.

Carefully, she turns her head to look at James.

His head is leaned back on the sofa and the way he's breathing, slow and deep, makes her think he fell asleep, too.

But when she peers closer she sees that his eyes are just slightly open, slivered crescents clinging to awareness.

Oddly fascinated, Anna watches the colors of the film play over his features. He really is so handsome, in a way that makes him seem almost unreal.

Strange shadows dance over the sharp planes of his face and she notes the way his hair is growing a little too long, brushing into his eyes.

She takes in again the way her cats have cozied up to him. She thinks about how he chose to spend his free time with her, when he could have enjoyed an empty apartment to himself. How he didn't get upset when she declined to go out and had been perfectly happy to sit in and watch children's movies with her.

She thinks about the flowers he brought.

It's Valentine's Day, or it was, but James coming over hadn't been a date. He'd been under no obligation to bring anything but the beer, yet he'd gone to the trouble anyway.

She thinks of how sweet he's been, how funny. Every time Alyssa talks her into going out with them Anna always ends up with James, goofing off and having the best time.

Their introduction had been botched, true, but their friendship has grown drastically in the last five months. Now, it's hard to imagine James not being there.

He's too much a part of her life.

Maybe Alyssa had been right about him. She believes her sister had no ulterior motives this time – no plot devised by Alyssa could have been so effective – but Anna finds herself considering possibilities she's ignored for months.

Maybe –

“Take a picture, doll,” James mumbles, head lolling to the side so he can return her stare. “It'll last longer.”

Her heart stops, mortified at being caught, but she can't help smiling at his awful joke. “That an invitation?”

His answering smirk is sleepy and soft, just enough to punch right through her, and she has the extremely intrusive thought that as smirks go his is very kissable.

Which, of course, is not what she needs to be thinking. At all.

But James is here, in her home at five in the morning, snuggling with _her_ cats on _her_ sofa, and looking entirely too much like he belongs there.

It does things to her.

“Time is it?” he asks, squinting at the clock.

“A little after five,” she murmurs, stretching to pick up her phone. It's blinking madly with notifications, most of which she ignores, but she opens Snapchat to see if Alyssa has posted anything.

She flips through the story, smiling at the multitude of happy, silly selfies of Alyssa and Steve.

“Look at these,” she says, repositioning so James can see the screen. “It's a nice place they're at.”

“Yeah, Steve and I spent hours looking at it online.”

“Really? He's so sweet about her, I love it.”

They tap through the uploads: selfies by a massive swimming pool; the bedroom with its bay windows and clawfoot tub; colorful cocktails with paper umbrellas.

“Seems like they're having a good time. Glad they made it safe.”

“Me too,” she agrees, tossing her phone on the couch between them and snuggling deeper into her blanket.

She doesn't recall tugging it off the back of the couch and deduces James must have put it over her. Another point in his favor.

“Guess I oughta head home.” James is looking at the TV, eyes unseeing as the credits roll up the screen.

Anna doesn't think before saying, “Why? You've been here this long, a few more hours won't hurt.”

He looks back at her, and the expression in his eyes is unfathomable. “That okay?”

“If I say it is. It's five in the morning and squalling rain outside, no reason for you to go out in that. Hang around a little while, I'll make us breakfast in a bit.”

“Well, if the lady insists,” he sighs softly, relaxing back into the sofa.

“She does.”

“Guess that's settled. You always up and at 'em this early?”

“Hell no,” Anna snorts. “I'm not a morning person. But this is about the time the cats wake me up for breakfast so I'm used to it.”

As if they understood the word, both cats raise their heads to look at her and James laughs.

“Here we go,” she huffs, kicking free of the blanket and standing up.

Immediately the cats leap off of James, bolting into the kitchen and chorusing their apparent starvation.

“I guess we can get going a little early this morning,” Anna laughs.

She looks back at James, is surprised and flustered to find him gazing up at her so tenderly. She has to struggle to find her words again. “Think you can put on some coffee?”

He doesn't answer right away, just keeps looking at her like he's memorizing everything he sees. Like he's witnessing something wholly revolutionary.

The strange hush between them, the unexpected intimacy, has Anna's heart hammering hard, but then he blinks, rises off the couch, and the moment passes.

“I might could do that,” he says, walking past her into the kitchen, where Frankie and Pickles are still loudly demanding their breakfast.

Anna stays rooted there a moment longer, watching him.

He moves around her kitchen with uncanny ease, steadily going through the motions of preparing the coffee.

Frankie and Pickles wind themselves around his legs, mewing piteously, and he leans down to scratch them both behind their ears.

Anna is struck hard by that image, by how utterly at home he looks making coffee in her kitchen, by the rightness of it.

And by how desperately she wants it. Wants him.

With a sigh, resigning herself to her inevitable doom and deciding she may as well get some coffee before turning her world upside down, Anna follows after him.

And thinks to herself, dryly amused, _This can only end in tears._

 

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End file.
